Cat and Mouse
by Bookworm10
Summary: Serenity has a rodent problem. Set several weeks after Objects in Space. Reviews welcome!
1. Unwanted Passengers

Disclaimer: The Firefly 'verse is the property of Joss Whedon and the good people at Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox. Thanks, folks. Keep flying.

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**Cat and Mouse**

By Bookworm

**Chapter 1: Unwelcome Passengers**

Simon was feeling apprehensive as he limped into the mess: Wash was in charge of cooking this morning. One whiff and he felt sure his concern was well founded.

"You're all in for quite a treat!" Wash assured them all, clapping his hands together. "Dig into the mashed protein with onion powder and canned tomatoes while I open a few cans of--hey, what's this?" He was staring into an open drawer at a mass of shredded cloth.

Jayne stood up, walked over, and poked at the shreds. Zoe came and looked around his shoulder. "Oh, this is unpleasant," she remarked coolly. "We've got a rodent problem!"

Jayne backed up hastily. "Rats?"

She pushed the shreds around in the drawer a moment, searching. "Well, from the size of the droppings, I'd say a mouse. Probably nesting."

"Mice? Here in the kitchen?" Wash asked. He looked left and right and shifted his feet uneasily.

"Droppings?" Simon asked around a mouthful of food. He swallowed sickly and dropped his fork. Inara laid her fork down, too, quickly followed by Kaylee. Book looked up from his silent grace with mild interest.

River laughed. "Beady little minds! Hungry!" She popped a forkful of food into her mouth, swallowed it, and grinned at Simon.

"River!" Simon gasped. He grabbed her silverware from her and pushed her bowl out of her reach. She reached for the food once, and then settled for pouting when he slapped her hand.

Mal swept in from the bridge. His step was energetic, but the doctor noticed circles under his eyes and thought his face looked drawn. "Looks like we might have us another job. I need to know how long it would take to get to Greenleaf, Wash." He stopped, perplexed at the number of people in the kitchen. "Is there a problem?"

Kaylee spoke up. "Nothin' serious, Cap'n. We might have a little issue with mice in the kitchen, is all."

The captain pushed Jayne aside and inspected the damage himself. "Looks like maybe it confined its attention to this drawer."

"And this one, sir," Zoe added, looking into another drawer.

Jayne backed out of the kitchen while Zoe continued opening drawers and lockers. Wash hovered behind her. "You're gonna protect me, right, hon?" he asked.

"Rodents in the kitchen are a serious health hazard," Simon lectured. "They can spread bacteria of all sorts, not to mention their historical connection to bubonic plague and Beaumonde fever."

Mal raised his eyes from the drawer and glowered. "I think we're all aware of the implications, Doctor."

"What're ya gonna do, Mal?" Jayne asked. "We gotta get rid of 'em before they grow into rats!"

The captain blinked. Twice.

"Yes, Jayne, mice grow into rats, just like asses grow into horses," Wash teased. "Any sign of a tail coming in yet?"

"When you've grown into a man, we can have a conversation about that," Jayne growled.

Inara chimed in. "Jayne's right, Mal. We have to do something."

Mal pressed the spot between his eyes. "OK. OK. Let's not panic. I'll think of something. We've got some time until we reach Greenleaf--if we can't catch them before then, we can surely find some remedy there. Meanwhile, we're extra careful. We wash all silverware, plates and utensils _with soap_ before eating, and we clean up thoroughly directly after. All food and towels go in the lockers, not out where they can draw attention." He skewered Simon with his glare. "That do for now, Doctor?"

Simon nodded. "Yes. That--that should help."

"Shiny. Get yourselves some breakfast people," Mal ordered. He strode from the mess and headed down the stairs towards the cargo bay.

Kaylee blinked her eyes and shook her head vigorously. "Wake up!" she chided herself. She let out a determined sigh and redirected her attention to the salvaged parts she was cleaning and inspecting. She was rubbing a cloth around the inside of a fitting when Mal walked into the engine room like a man with a purpose.

"Hey, Cap'n!"

"Hey, Kaylee. I've just about got some traps put together, but I need some springs. Got anything that'll do?"

"I think so, Cap'n." She put the parts aside, wiped her hands on the cloth, and stood up. "You know, if you'd let me get that kitten on Persephone, you might not have this problem!"

"I was pretty sure I could count on you to bring that up again!"

She smiled at him brightly. "Well, I'd hate to ever let you down!"

"You haven't yet."

"How'd we wind up with rats? _Serenity_'s a clean ship!"

"Mice!" Mal corrected. He shrugged. "We've been moving livestock. Livestock means grain, and, far as I've seen, grain means mice. Now the grain's gone, they're looking around for food and a place to nest. Can't hardly blame 'em."

"Well, I hope you can catch 'em. I think I've got some springs we can salvage in here." She started sorting through a crate of junk parts. "What kind of traps are you makin'?"

"There's only one kind of trap I've ever seen work. Nobody's ever improved on it."

"Cap'n! You mean you're gonna kill 'em?" She was horrified.

Mal chuckled. "Kaywinnit Lee Frye--just what did you think a cat was gonna do with 'em? Dress 'em up in petticoats and have 'em in for tea?"

She grinned sheepishly. "I hadn't rightly thought it through. But that's a cat's nature--yer not that way!"

"Ain't true, Kaylee. You yourself, on more'n one occasion, have called me a pussycat. Are you sayin' now you didn't mean it?"

She thumped him in the chest with her fist. "You know how I meant that!"

He caught her hand and waggled a finger at her. "Striking your captain is a serious offense!" His eyes narrowed and he added with concern, "You look tired, Kaylee. You all right?"

She looked at him defiantly. "So do you, Cap'n!"

"Well, I'm fine!" he snapped.

"So'm I!" she snapped right back.

He locked eyes with her a moment, then released her hand and stepped back. "Well, fine, then. Observation withdrawn." He gestured towards the crate. "Show me what you've got."

Mal sat up in bed with a groan and rubbed his cheeks. Tears. He'd lost count of the number of times Early raped Kaylee while Mal watched helplessly. Funny that tossing his sorry ass into the Black hadn't been enough. Seems the _liou mahng_ was still aboard. Back when he was sergeant, Mal had always been able to snatch deep, dreamless rest during the worst conditions--threat of enemy fire, plague, injuries, fever, or all of the above--as long as Zoe was on watch. 'Course, these days they were trying to live like normal people, keep normal hours. He could hardly inflict watch shifts on the crew at this point--particularly on Wash and Zoe.

He gave up on sleep and rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh. He put his pants on, pulling the suspenders over his bare chest. Like a sleepwalker, he strapped his gun on, felt for the ladder, and groped his way up, his bare toes curling away from the cold metal.

The halls were dark. Everybody else was sensibly asleep. He kept his right hand on his gun as he padded to the mess: truth be told, he felt a little silly prowling the ship alone and armed, but ever since Early took him by surprise in the night, he had taken to always being ready for trouble. Well, as ready for trouble as he could be without messing with putting his boots on: sometimes he liked to feel _Serenity's_ hum through the soul of his feet.

Tonight his perambulations had a goal: the traps he had set in the mess and the cargo bay. As he passed Kaylee's room, he paused, checking to see if her hatch was locked. She had been locking herself in every evening since Early's visit. Mal knew she was finding sleep to be as elusive as he was--he was just at a loss as to what to do about it.

Resignedly, he continued on.

In the kitchen, the trap was sprung and the bait gone. No mouse. Son of a bitch. "I'm just feeding the gorram things," he muttered. He grabbed more protein from the refrigerator and plunked himself down on the floor to bait the trap again. The trap sprang shut twice--son of a whore, _ni ta ma de_--before he succeeded in setting it.

Then he repeated the entire performance--rutting mice, rutting _trap_--in the cargo bay. Finally he stood, yawned hugely, and stumbled up the stairs and down the corridor towards his bunk.

As he came even with Kaylee's room, he could hear her talking within. Her voice sounded shrill, afraid, though he couldn't make out any words. He pounded on the hatch and called to her. "Kaylee! You all right, little girl?"

She screamed.

"Kaylee! Open up! Kaylee!" Mal beat on the hatch, throwing his weight against it. When it suddenly clicked open, he barely saved himself from tumbling through the hole in the floor. He dropped down the ladder, spun around, and pulled Kaylee into his arms.

She was sobbing and clinging to him. He looked wildly around, seeking whatever had threatened her, but saw nothing. Finally, he pressed her head against his chest and comforted her. "Shhh, little Kaylee. Shhh. It's all right."

He heard footsteps above and Zoe called down softly, "Everything okay, sir?"

"Under control, Zoe. Go back to bed."

"You heard what he ordered, pumpkin," he heard Wash say.

"Good night, sir."

Mal turned his attention back to his engineer. She had stopped sobbing and was sniffling. She broke away from him, snatched a tissue from her bedside shelf and blew her nose furiously.

"What happened, Kaylee? Bad dreams?"

"I guess so, Cap'n. I woke up, and I heard somebody walkin' upstairs. I keep hearin' that, every night, and I can't help thinkin' that it's Ear--Early, gotten back on the ship somehow. Then I rolled over in bed, opened my eyes, and saw him standing right where you are!"

"But he wasn't really here, right? It was just . . . just your mind having fun with you."

"I know that, Cap'n--but it seemed so real." She looked down at her hands, twisting the wet tissue. "I can't get one thing that he said out of my mind. I was wondering where he came from, and he said _maybe I've always been here_." She looked up into his eyes. "Makes me think maybe he's still here somehow."

Mal pulled her to him again. "I know. I do. I've been walking the halls at night, with my gun, looking for the _xiong meng de kuang ren_, I guess. Don't make sense, but I could swear I've caught a glimpse of him more'n once."

She looked up into his face, surprised. Mal's lip crooked in a self-deprecating smile. "The man said those things just to be creepifying."

"Worked, too, didn' it?"

"Mmm hmm." He tightened his arms around her. "Yes, it did. And if you tell anyone . . . "

"Secret's safe with me, Cap'n!" she hastily assured him.

"Well, that's shiny, 'cause I--"

His reply was cut short by two loud blasts and a barrage of muffled cursing.

"Stay here!" he ordered and scrambled up the ladder. He followed the noise to Jayne's bunk. One tap on the hatch caused it to open--Jayne never locked it, probably in the hope that one of the females would wander his way in the middle of the night. "Jayne! You all right?" he called down.

"Geez, Mal!" came the shaky reply. "I--I'm okay."

"You decent?"

"Hardly ever."

"Ask a stupid question . . ." Mal grumbled as he descended the ladder. The small room was pungent with the smell of gunpowder. When he looked around, he discovered Jayne jammed into the far corner, a gun in his hand and a glazed look in his eyes. "Mighty small quarters for gunplay!" the captain observed.

"Yeah--I figgered that out. The ricochets were--well, the bullets just kept flyin'!" Fresh marks on the walls bore out his story.

"What the hell were you shooting at?"

"It was a rat, Mal. A big ol' mean-eyed, yeller-teethed _liou mahng_. Right here in my room!"

The captain peered into every corner and pulled the bedclothes back. "Nothin' here now. Can you get to sleep on your own, or do you want me to tuck you in and tell you a story?"

"Gorram it!" Jayne snapped, disgusted. He threw his gun down at the head of the bed, slammed his pillow on top of it, and flung himself down. "Turn the light out on yer way out!"

"Sweet dreams," Mal laughed as he climbed out.


	2. On the Prowl

**Chapter 2: On the Prowl**

The next morning, both traps were sprung again, bait gone. Mal was sitting on the floor in the kitchen, resetting one with total disregard for any breakfast preparations. Inara came around the counter and bumped into him just as he was getting the trap to stay open. It sprang shut with a loud snap, right on the captain's thumb. "_Ni ta da me_!" Mal howled, shaking his hand frantically. He tore the trap off and shoved the offended digit into his mouth. "Watch where you're going, woman!" he mumbled around it.

"Couldn't that wait until we're done eating?" she asked. "I hardly think a mouse is going to come out for food while we're all rattling around in here."

He pulled his thumb out and regarded it seriously. "Nothing they do will surprise me," he assured her. "These are clever and courageous vermin."

"Why?" she asked. "Outsmarting _you_ is hardly an indicator of superior intelligence." 

He put his thumb back in his mouth and sucked on it mournfully.

Inara tried again. "Do you really think you'll catch anything with those idiotic traps? At the rate they breed, ten will be born for every one that you catch!"

The thumb came back out and he cocked it at her. "Well, you see, this is just the first phase of my master plan. I'm working out the details of a phase two that should be the stuff of legends for generations to come." He went back to setting the trap.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, spare me the finer details, please. By the way, against all rational expectations, I've received an attractive request for an appointment tomorrow in Glendale. I should be back by mid-morning the next day. Will that work out?"

The trap snapped shut again and nearly leaped from Mal's hand. With a curse, he jumped to his feet and hurled it into the far corner of the lounge area. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

Inara touched his shoulder. "Mal?"

He massaged his forehead a moment and then looked at her, his face carefully expressionless, his tone casual. "Should be okay. We've never dealt with this contact before. I'm not bound to trust him if he pressures us to move before morning. 'Sides, Kaylee'll be lookin' around for salvage, and we need to lay in some fresh supplies. Morning should be in plenty of time." He paused for a beat.

"But couldn't you have waited to bring this up until we were done eating?"

Inara dimpled at him. "Does this mean that you are actually going to grace us with your presence at the breakfast table this morning?"

"That's asking a lot, seeing as how Jayne's cooking this morning. But I'll give it a try."

Zoe was checking the Cortex for any alerts from Greenleaf while Wash checked on their course. She heard a soft tread on the stairs and looked up as Inara poked her head into the bridge.

The companion paused and smiled brightly. "Any updates on our expected arrival time?" she asked.

Wash smiled proudly. "If anything, we will be an hour or so ahead of my earlier estimates."

"Well, that's good to hear. Then we'll all be able to get to our business that much sooner."

"Yes, yes, we will," the pilot agreed. "I'll get to purchase exciting supplies while my wife engages in probable criminal activities. I'm tingling with anticipation--I can hardly wait to get there!"

Inara smiled awkwardly. Zoe could tell that she wanted to say something further, but was having trouble bringing it up. "Is there something you're concerned about, Inara?" she asked.

The companion nodded in relief. "Yes. I'm --I'm worried about Mal. He's skipped most meals the past couple of weeks and he barely ate this morning. He's lost weight, and he doesn't look like he's sleeping."

"He'll be fine," Zoe cut her off.

"It just seems that ever since that bounty hunter came on board, he's--"

"Captain'll be fine. He's dealing with things. It'll just take him a little time to finish."

"He has been a little tetchy," Wash observed. "I can understand that Kaylee is still upset, and Simon should probably be having nightmares, but Mal usually just takes things and keeps going. Mouse hunting seems to agree with him, though."

Zoe looked from her husband to the companion, weighing their concern and their discretion. "This is different," she said. "That _huh choo-sheng tza-jiao duh tzang-huo _sneaked on board _Serenity_ and took the Captain out before he even knew we'd been invaded. Captain can take all kinds of physical pain and direct confrontation, but _Serenity_ is his refuge. You didn't know him before he got the ship--you can't know how rebuilding _Serenity_ and getting her going was what got Mal going again, too. He put Sergeant Reynolds of the Independent Army behind him and became Captain Reynolds, a free man. He doesn't just love this ship--it's part of him. Early's visit was a violation."

"It was like rape," Inara interjected, her eyes wide with the revelation.

Zoe nodded. "In a lot of ways."

"Well, as his friends, we should--"

"Leave it alone, Inara. The Captain will find a way to get past this, and he won't take kindly to being coddled or tiptoed around. Let him have his distractions, and just treat him like you always have."

Later that morning, Mal was staring forlornly at the growing list of needed supplies and the probable tally of expenses when Inara stomped up to him. "Just _look_ at this!" she fumed, waving a fistful of perfumed finery under his nose. He looked up in mild surprise and gently took the proffered item. Ever so delicately, he grasped it by the straps and held up a flowing undergarment. Or was it nightwear?

"Okay. I'm lookin'. Enjoyin', even. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Oooooh!" She snatched it away from him and poked her fingers through the ragged hole in the midsection. "Look! _Something_ has been chewing on it!"

"I figured that's normal collateral damage."

"Ha ha. Joke if you like, but I'm taking the price of this--_and_ any other damaged items--out of this month's rent. And I expect you to get up to my shuttle and certify it free of mice, or rats, or--or jack rabbits before I leave for my appointment!"

He ran his fingers back through his hair, brushing it off his forehead. "Right! Lead the way."

At the shuttle, Inara hung back by the door while he entered and looked around. "How thoroughly do you want me to search?" he asked with a wry grin.

"_Very_ thoroughly. I don't want any unpleasant surprises."

He nodded. "Okay. Okay, then. We'll just start here at the dresser and work our way around." He opened the top dresser drawer and started taking clothing out and putting it on the bed. He made an effort to retain the stacks as they were, but he riffled through them all and touched each and every garment. "No sign of damage on any of these." He paused to sniff one stack delicately and give a dreamy sigh. Then he ran his hand around the empty drawer. "And no traces in here." He looked up and asked politely, "Shall I put this back as I go, or do you want me to leave it all out until the end?"

Inara threw her hands up angrily. "Just put it back as you go!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He carefully placed all the stacks back into the drawer and moved on to the next one. It contained various intriguing paraphernalia. He pulled all of it out, piece by piece, and lined it all up on the bed without a single comment beyond several puzzled looks. Inara tapped her foot.

He started to put it all back in the drawer when his attention was caught by a lilting laugh outside the door. River, a long sweater sagging nearly to her knees, floated in and picked up a feathery doohickey from the row. She waved it at Mal, smiled coyly, and said, "Savage bed foot-warmer!"

"Really?" he asked. "I woulda sworn it was for warming somethin' else entirely. How about it, Inara? Isn't that for--"

"Just leave these things and move on!" the companion ordered. She jerked the thingamabob from River's hand, flung it onto the bed, and pulled the bedspread up around the edges to cover everything.

"Next drawer!" River announced. She spun around, knelt by the bottom drawer and yanked it open. She thrust both hands in and brought up an armload of silky nothings. Mal reached to take some of it from her, and suddenly jumped back as two mice scurried out from the folds and across his hands. They dropped to the floor with muffled thuds and vanished under the bed.

Inara let out a high-pitched "Agh!" and fled the room.

"Well, this is progress," Mal commented. He grabbed the finery from River and shoved it back in the drawer. Then he got down on hands and knees and peered under the bed. Dark.

Grabbing a pillow off the bed, he stripped off the case and tossed it to the girl. "I'll chase 'em out towards you. See if you can scoop 'em up in that."

She nodded enthusiastically and took up her position while he stretched out on his stomach and waved his hand under the bed. The mice bolted--first towards River, but then they veered and scampered right past the captain's nose. From his perspective, they suddenly loomed monstrously before him and he couldn't refrain from rolling away from them with a cry of alarm. Then he just lay on his back, flummoxed.

River laughed at him. Then she chucked the pillowcase over her shoulder and crooked her fingers menacingly. "Thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie!" she declaimed, rushing past Mal into the corner where the mice had retreated.

Mal flinched. Before him swam Niska's face with a welcoming smile. "Now we'll get to know the real you, Mr. Reynolds," he said.

The next moment, Niska was gone and River was pursuing the mice out the shuttle door past Inara, who plastered herself against the wall to let all three pass. Mal followed them with his eyes as he climbed to his feet. His face was thoughtful as he gave Inara's quarters a final cursory inspection. He was very confident that no other mice remained in the shuttle.

Mal found Simon alone in the infirmary, poring over readouts from Ariel for the hundredth time, hoping for insight. The captain stood right across the desk from the doctor and spoke softly. "Doctor, I never did make a formal decision regarding our discussions about your sister's spells and her talents."

Simon looked up, nervous. "No--no, you didn't. I guess I thought that her handling of Early put your mind to rest regarding that."

"That situation raised more questions than it answered, doctor. She handled it well, but her method of handling it was a little unorthodox, don't you think?"

"River has always been unorthodox, Captain."

"We're not talking about being creative here. We're talking about reading minds. And maybe more."

"More?"

Mal paused to consider his next words. "Is it possible that she can project thoughts into other people's minds?"

Simon was visibly stunned by the question. "Project her thoughts? I don't know if such a thing is possible at all, much less whether River can do it."

"Has she been having nightmares about Early?"

"Well, she often wakes up screaming. But recently, yes, I think some of them have been about him. He seems to frighten her more now that he's gone than he did while he was actually here. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think she may be broadcasting her nightmares," Mal explained.

Simon looked at the captain, taking in his haggard look. "Mal, I'm not completely blind. I know that you're working on just a few hours of sleep a night, and that you've almost stopped eating altogether. You're suffering normal post-traumatic stress, and you haven't even tried to deal with it. Pinning this on River isn't going to make it any better for you!"

Mal's face darkened with barely controlled anger. "Doctor, I seem to be talking here, but you ain't exactly listening. Zoe'll tell you that I've been through some bad times, followed by more bad times while I worked through it all. But no matter how bad it got, I never was so far gone that I hallucinated--not without a ragin' fever. When I started seeing things, I thought maybe I was just going crazy--but Kaylee's been seeing things, too. It fits, doctor. And we ain't talking about just stampeding cattle. I can't afford to question my own eyes, and neither can Kaylee." He rubbed his eyes. "And, yes, I would like to sleep more than two hours in a night."

"Mal, I--I don't know what to do. This has caught me totally off guard. Frankly, I think that if she were broadcasting, I'd be the first to feel it. I'm closest to her. I'll consider the possibility."

"That's good of you, doctor," Mal replied sarcastically. "I would rather that you come up with a solution to this problem before I have to."

"Let me at least give you something to help you sleep," Simon offered, opening the medicine cabinet.

Mal shook his head. "No, no drugs. If I'm gonna have nightmares, I want to be able to wake up from them. Just consider what I said." He turned on his heel and strode out.

Ship's deep night found Mal prowling again. He told himself that he needed to check the traps. Of course, that only explained his patrols for the past night or two, but it would do as an excuse for the moment.

These nightly rounds were taking their toll: he hadn't had a full night's rest in several weeks now. And it wasn't the usual old memories this time. Tonight had been Early killing Simon and taking River back to torture and experimentation.

But tonight . . . tonight it's mice that need tending.

Predictably, the traps were sprung, bait gone. Same rutting drill. And practice didn't seem to lessen the risk to fingers one little bit. Must be those salvaged springs--too testy.

Kitchen done. Cargo bay finished. No mice. No sadistic crime lords. No metaphysical bounty hunters. Better check by the shuttles, though: they were up there earlier. All but the sadistic crime lord.

Lots of rutting stairs.

As he passed the top of the stairs out of the cargo bay, he heard a sudden clap. Hey. Could it be? Too much to hope for--probably another escape artist. With a resigned sigh, he turned around and headed back towards the stairs.

Jubal Early stood there, a manic smile on his lips and a massive gun in his hand. As he raised the gun to fire, Mal rushed forward with a cry and reached to shove his arm upward.

But there was no arm there, and the catwalk disappeared beneath his feet. He felt his ankle give way as he hit the stairs and tumbled down into darkness.

River sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide with alarm. She whimpered and pressed her hands to her temples. "My Captain! Rise up and hear the bells!"

Wash was dreaming. His arms were around a beautiful goddess, and she was naked and warm from loving, and totally tangled up in him. Funny . . . this goddess was his wife. How could that be? Oh, right . . . he was dreaming. Nice dream.

And then suddenly he was awake. The beautiful goddess had abruptly jerked upright and said that dreaded word: "Mal!"

Now she was grabbing a gun and bolting up the ladder, taking all the warmth with her. This was too much.

"Hey!" he protested. "Who--? Where--? Wait! Clothes!!!" He leaped from the bed, stumbled over the blankets they had pushed to the floor, and hopped around on one foot and then the other as he frantically pulled his boxers on. He grabbed a tropical shirt from the pile of clothes on a chair as he followed Zoe upwards.

She paused a moment in the hallway to spring the hatch to Jayne's bunk and call down, "Jayne! Trouble!" Then she was gone.

Wash pursued her doggedly, clutching the shirt to his chest with one hand and pulling at his hair with the other. "Hon! Sweety? Nakedness. Jayne. Can't be good!"

He caught up with her in the cargo bay on the stairs. She was crouched on the landing beside the splayed form of the captain.

"Get Simon!" she barked.

"Right!" he obeyed automatically, wheeling around and racing back to the passenger quarters. He pounded on the doctor's door and cried out, "Mal's hurt! Cargo bay!" He waited just long enough to hear a muffled response within and then rushed back to Zoe.

He collided with Jayne on the stairs. The mercenary was scanning the corners of the cargo area, a very large gun ready. Wash squeezed past him and tiptoed up the stairs to the landing. Mal was stirring, but Zoe had a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to lie still. Wash cast a nervous look at Jayne and draped his shirt over her shoulders. "Is he okay?"

Zoe met his eyes, her own face calm. "I think so. Everything is moving, and he's coming around."

"What happened? Not another midnight ambush?" He looked around nervously at the multiple entrances and overhangs in the cargo bay.

"No," the captain groaned, pushing himself up slightly on his elbows and grinding his forehead into the grating. "No bounty hunters. Just a little ac-accident."

"Captain! Just lie still a moment and let me make sure you haven't suffered some serious damage," Simon ordered as he scrambled up the stairs and flung himself down on his knees at Mal's side. "Can you wiggle all your fingers and toes?"

The captain balled his fists. "Uhhhhhhh. Just about." He pushed himself up on his left elbow and rolled over, holding his right leg out stiffly. Several of the toes were bleeding and the ankle and foot were both already swelling and turning colorful.

Jayne, convinced that there was no threat to defend against, slung his gun over his shoulder and sat on the steps above the landing. His eyes bored into Zoe's back.

"Was he unconscious when you found him?" Simon asked Zoe. His professional mien was replaced with an open-mouthed stare for a moment when he realized that she was dressed in nothing but a luau shirt draped over her back. He quickly busied himself checking Mal's pupils and feeling his head for bumps.

"Yes, but he started coming around almost immediately."

"Hmmm. He's a little shocky. Where's it hurt, Mal?"

"The ankle, mostways. I missed the step." He nodded towards the top of the offending staircase and froze. 

Simon glanced up: River was leaning against the railing, her hair hanging in her face, staring intently down at Mal. "One brown mouse sitting in a cage," she remarked sadly.

"A, uh, mouse ran over my foot," Mal finished, turning his face away.

"The ankle looks bad," Simon declared. "Let's get you to the infirmary. Somebody help me carry him."

Jayne strode down the stairs and elbowed Simon aside. "I got 'im," he growled. He paused for a moment to make full use of his new vantage point and rake Zoe with his eyes.

Wash stepped in front of his wife and tried to turn her around while shielding her from Jayne's view. She returned Jayne's look with a cool stare before shrugging her arms into the shirt and buttoning it up.

Jayne grinned cockily and then knelt down and put his arms under Mal's knees and shoulders.

"Hey! Whoa!" Mal protested as he was lifted up. "I'm fairly sure there's a paragraph in ship's regs forbidding any manhandling of the captain! And you can be sure, Jayne, that I would be resisting but for a deep concern of looking womanish in front of the crew!"

"Aw, hell, Mal," Jayne protested. "They've seen me carry you plenty of times. This is just the first time you've been conscious, is all."

"Don't worry, Mal," Wash assured him. "This in no way detracts from your manly, commanding captainhood. That went out the airlock when you let a rodent push you down the stairs!"

Mal sighed and leaned his forehead into Jayne's shoulder, giving in. "Just be gentle with me!"


	3. Out of Action

**Chapter 3: Out of Action**

Mal, dressed in just pants and suspenders, was standing on one foot next to the bed when Zoe walked into the infirmary the next morning. His right ankle and foot, a refulgent purple, were tightly wrapped and he had splints on three toes.

"You set on getting better acquainted with the floor, sir?" she asked.

He hopped across to a closet and peered in. "I know there's a pair of crutches around here somewhere--I've used them before. Simon won't give them to me."

"Some nonsense about how you look like you could use some rest and you really should keep off the leg entirely for a day or two?" she surmised.

"Exactly some such!"

She crossed her arms and faced him squarely. "Listen to him, sir. You've looked more like hell than usual for the last week, and you've done yourself actual damage."

"I can't sit here in sickbay--we've got a job!"

She'd been expecting this argument. "You can't come on the job, sir. Jayne and I'll handle it."

"There should be three of us, in case there's trouble. We don't know these folks."

"That's why you can't come, sir. You'd be a liability."

He glared at her, but she just returned his look with the same calm expression she had used so often before. Mal was exceptional at inspiring trust in those following him, but he had never been able to tell when people were finally at their limit--most especially himself. Zoe's most important duty was pointing out to him when those limits had been reached. She chose these moments carefully: she never challenged him unless she knew she was right, and she never backed down. Eventually, he always did.

Oh, well. There was that one time about hiring that pilot. But she hadn't really put her foot down that time.

This time he held her gaze rather than looking away. "You be careful," he ordered. "Jayne's good in a fight--but watch your back."

"Always do, sir."

"I'll be up on the bridge. Report before you go in and as soon as you're done."

She nodded. "We shouldn't be too long. Most of the others are already gone. Kaylee and Wash are out getting supplies and salvage. The Shepherd's left for the local abbey. And Inara took off ten minutes ago."

"Just me and the fugitives from justice, then."

"Be easy on them, sir." She turned and started to go.

"Zoe!" he said before she could leave.

She turned back to him.

"How . . . you obviously weren't just out for a stroll through the cargo bay last night, since, you know . . ." He trailed off, waving his hand up and down to indicate his own semi-dressed state.

"I just woke up and knew you were in trouble, sir," she stated, as if it were the most normal thing in the worlds.

He nodded a few times. "Right. Right. 'Cause, after all the time we've been together, we have this sort of psychic bond." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "This hasn't exactly ever happened before, has it?"

"No, sir, not like this. This was a first." It was all she could do to not grin: frustrating Mal with her habitual brevity was always too easy. "You'll be hearing from me soon."

On her way out, she passed River stalking the infirmary like a commando with a pair of crutches in her arms. The girl flashed a bright smile as their eyes briefly met and then made a dash for the sickbay door.

Jayne was waiting for her outside on the mule. He sat on the back seat, obviously planning on riding shotgun. He was certainly armed for it.

She stopped short of the mule and stood with her hands on her hips. "Before we get moving, we've got a few things to get straight. Without the Captain along, there's one less set of eyes to keep watch on you. I need to know I can trust you--and, truth be told, I _don't_ trust you, Jayne, not one bit."

Jayne squirmed on the seat for a moment and then jumped to his feet in dramatic indignation. "Rutting hell, Zoe. I've never done a thing to you!"

She stared him right in the eye. "No--but we started this relationship with you shooting a comrade and joining our side for better money. And I've got a strong feeling that you've been less than honest since you came on board. I don't know what arrangement you've got with Mal, and I don't much care. I just want to be clear: if you make any trouble for me, I'll take it as trouble meant for the Captain, and I'll kill you. Is that understood?"

Jayne swallowed. "Well, I, you--hell, _yes_, it's understood." He set his jaw and returned her stare. "I don't blame you for not trusting me," he grated, "and you've got no cause to believe me, but having a place on _Serenity_ has come to mean somethin' to me. And I'll do what I have to to earn it."

The sincerity of his answer surprised her; she had expected more bluster. She rewarded him with a slight smile before climbing into the driver's seat. "All right, then. Let's go!"

On _Serenity_, Mal swayed on his crutches just out of sight of the mess, recovering his breath and steeling himself for the inevitable encounter with the doctor. He could hear Simon rattling dishes: the only path to the bridge that was navigable on crutches was directly past him. Rutting hell_._

River, his shadow for this adventure, held a finger to her lips and flattened herself against the wall. She inched up to the opening, carefully peeked around, and abruptly pulled back, laughing silently. "Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor," she murmured, throwing her shoulders back. Then she wandered around the corner in her usual aimless manner, twisting her hands together and smiling in a twitchy way.

Mal was fascinated. Which behavior was the act? If she was acting now, she was doing a highly convincing job: Simon took one look at her faraway gaze and ran to her. "Windy rooftop, weathercock," she said to him earnestly.

That was the distraction Mal needed. While Simon was trying to sort out her gibberish, he lurched through the dining area and up the few stairs. He thought he was home free when he heard Simon call out to him.

"Not now, doctor," he snapped without pausing.

Simon scrambled over and got in front of him. "Captain, you really shouldn't be up. That foot should be elevated--it's already badly swollen, and you're just prolonging your recovery."

Mal pulled himself as upright as he could and put on his stony captain face. "Doctor, I've got people out on what could be a risky job. They have strict orders to report in before and after the meeting, and I intend to be on the bridge to receive those reports. So, I'll tell you just this once--get out of my way!"

Mal took great satisfaction in the way Simon immediately backed off half a step. A moment later, though, Simon recovered his composure and actually laughed. "You know, Mal, I really shouldn't let you intimidate me. Look at you. You can't even stand on your own, and yet the slightest sign of impatience or displeasure from you has me throwing aside all my training and letting the patient push me around."

The captain's lip twisted in a dangerous smile. "Are you standing up to me, or giving in? 'Cause if you're giving in, this is the part where you step to one side and let me pass. But if you want to stand up to me, we can go a few rounds right here."

"Are you planning on shooting me?" Simon asked, waving a finger towards Mal's gun. "You once swore that if you ever shot me, I'd be armed."

"I'm sure we can find you a gun in Jayne's arsenal," the captain replied evenly.

"No guns. This is the part where we make a deal," Simon said. "I let you go to the bridge and keep an eye on things until the crew returns. Then, you come back to the infirmary and let me give you something for the throbbing, and you get a full night's rest."

"You're taking unfair advantage, doctor: I can get around most of the ship, but I admit the ladder is a mite daunting." He nodded towards his bunk. The hatch gaped open, as he'd left it the night before. "I reckon I've got no choice in the matter. Infirmary or guest quarters, they're both below."

"Then we have a bargain." Simon stepped aside and went back to look for River.

Mal gritted his teeth and continued on to the bridge. Once there, he eased himself into Wash's chair and leaned back so he could lift his right leg with both hands and gently place his foot on the console. "_Tai-kong suo-yo de shing-chiou doh sai-jin wu di pigu_," he hissed. This was going to be a long vigil.

"This don't feel right," Jayne said out of the corner of his mouth. He and Zoe had arrived at the rendezvous point a few minutes earlier to find an empty warehouse. They had glimpsed at least one person in an overlooking window before they had gone in, and there was no telling how many more were scattered about.

"I know," Zoe replied through clenched teeth. "Stay alert."

"Right. I was about to take a little nap!"

At that moment, two men entered through a door in the far wall. One was a close match for Jayne, tall and wide as a tractor. The other was a small wiry man with blonde hair and cloudy gray eyes. Both had guns strapped to their hips. They stopped some ten feet away, the larger man taking up a position slightly behind the other.

The smaller man addressed himself to Jayne. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Reynolds. We've heard good things about your discretion."

"Huh?"

"Captain Reynolds couldn't make this appointment," Zoe informed him smoothly. "He left me to deal with it. I'm his first mate, Zoe, and this is Jayne."

The man frowned. "We were expecting to deal with the captain himself. I made that clear in my communications."

"And the Captain meant to honor that request. But something came up that required his attention, and he felt sure that this meeting would go smooth."

"We don't trust any of our goods to a captain we haven't met. If I were to return with you to your ship, could I meet the captain there? We would like a chance to look the ship over."

Something about this exchange didn't feel right to Zoe. After all the trouble to pick a private meeting spot, this man seemed awful eager to approach the ship in broad daylight. "The Captain took a shuttle and will be rendezvousing with us after we leave," she said. She prayed that Jayne's face didn't portray too much surprise at that statement. "And unless your business is totally legit, we usually find it best to keep the customer and the ship from too close an association."

"Well, we are prepared to pay handsomely to have our items moved, but we will not do business if your captain chooses to snub us."

"We're sorry you feel that way." Zoe nodded to him politely and started to back away.

Jayne shifted uneasily behind her. "Gorram it! We can't just let a deal go because Mal's too proud to let on that he's hurt." 

"Jayne!" Zoe hissed.

Jayne ignored her and addressed himself to the small man. "The captain's not taking care of other business. He's laid up in the infirmary after fallin' down a flight of stairs last night. He'd be here otherwise!"

Zoe froze, waiting for the reaction. It came with the sound of guns cocking behind them. She and Jayne both slowly turned, hands raised slightly, and faced two ugly specimens with guns nearly as big Jayne's trained on them.

"That's very interesting," the leader remarked. "Is anybody else with him?"

River stood on the landing in the cargo bay, gazing with unfocused eyes toward the raised loading ramp. She swayed side to side ever so slowly. Eventually she stirred and muttered, "Dark sail on the horizon!" She ran lightly down the stairs towards the infirmary.

Jayne was grateful that they had been tied up with their backs to each other: that way he didn't have to feel Zoe's searing glare. Not that he didn't deserve it; he'd screwed up good.

They were sitting on the ground, their arms tied around a supporting pole in the middle of the room. He could feel her hands digging into his lower back. Three of their ambushers had headed off to _Serenity_. The fourth was sitting at a table at the back of the room, lazily training a gun on them while he played a game of solitaire. He was cheating.

"_Jayne_!" Zoe hissed angrily. "So, how much money did they offer you this time?"

"Hell, Zoe, you can't think--"

"Oh, I can, and I do."

Their guard looked up from his game with interest.

"Look," Jayne insisted, "I haven't always been a huge fan of River and the doc. He gets on my nerves something fierce, and she likes to slice me up with kitchen knives. But Mal and me came to an understanding, and I wouldn't--"

A shot echoed through the warehouse and the guard fell backwards against the wall, clutching his shoulder. Shepherd Book rushed in from the side door, a semi-automatic in his outstretched hand. He disarmed the moaning thug, grabbed Jayne's knife from the table, and then backed up towards Zoe and Jayne.

"'Bout time, Preacher. I was beginning to think that our _deus ex machina_ was never gonna show," Zoe remarked.

"Sorry. Four against one seemed like long odds. I waited until they cleared out and then checked the perimeter. This one is the only one they left behind."

"Gorram it!" Jayne fumed. "You just let me think things were hopeless! Get us untied quick!"

Book knelt and cut the bonds on Zoe. She scrambled to her feet. "Hurry! They took our comm unit. We have to get back and warn Mal."

She collected her guns from the table and then looked at their erstwhile guard with distaste. As soon as he was free, Jayne joined her in collecting his armament. He glanced at her face and read her indecision. He shrugged, pointed his gun at the man, and shot him right through the heart.

Book spun towards Jayne. His face was twisted with anger and distress. "Jayne! That was unnecessary--the man was already subdued!"

Jayne holstered his gun and looked the Shepherd in the eye, totally unrepentant. "He heard me mention the doc and his sister."

Book turned to Zoe beseechingly. She nodded once to Jayne and then put her hand on the preacher's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Shepherd, but Jayne did the right thing. We've got to protect our own."

"I thought that cat was already out of the bag! Aren't they after River?"

"Hard to tell. I get the feeling they're interested in the Captain."


	4. Not Even a Mouse

**Chapter 4: Not Even a Mouse**

Mal hated waiting. Zoe had called before going into the warehouse, but that was an hour ago. It had been too long. He longed to pace, but with his foot throbbing like a _chao-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo_, that was pretty much out of the question. So all he could do was fret. He despised fretting. It was so passive.

Just when he'd decided that he'd better call Wash, the comm panel buzzed. He pressed the button and snapped, "You're late! What took so long?"

"We came as quickly as we could, Captain Reynolds," said an unfamiliar voice. "We've been looking forward to meeting you."

Mal checked the panel; the signal was coming from Zoe's comm unit. "Is my first officer with you?" he asked.

"She and the big one are with my boys. They're fine, for now. Open up, and they'll stay that way."

Mal pressed the button that piped their conversation throughout the ship. "What do you want?"

"Just a little conversation with you, face to face. You have two minutes to open up, captain, or we'll call our friends and tell them to dispose of your crew."

Mal balled his hands into fists.

"Captain? One minute thirty seconds."

Mal swore silently through his teeth. "Come on up. I'm on the bridge--straight back, up the stairs, and then forward." He hopped on one foot over to the cargo-bay door controls and entered the codes to open the ramp.

River stood in the engine room. Her head was tilted to one side, her expression blank. She gave no sign that she had heard their exchange.

Mal weighed his options. He was outgunned and outmaneuvered, and he wasn't exactly agile at the moment. He'd given the intruders explicit directions to the bridge, and he was hoping they came straight up. With any luck, they weren't after Simon and River and had no idea that they were on board.

In the end, he stashed his gun in the locker by the hatch and settled back down in the pilot's chair to wait. He was facing the hatch when they entered.

"Can I help you boys?"

"You can get up and come with us," the cleanest one said. "A certain Mr. Niska is willing to pay a king's ransom to get his hands on you. If you come along with no trouble, you'll make it easier on yourself and your crew."

Mal took a deep breath to steady himself. He'd suspected, but hoped it wasn't so. "Niska, huh?" He swallowed and then smiled wanly. "I don't suppose I could interest you boys in a counteroffer?"

All three burst out laughing. "Yeah," the leader gibed. "For the money we'll get, we could buy your whole ship three times over. Save your breath. Now, c'mon, get up!" He grabbed Mal by the shoulder and hauled him out of the chair. 

Mal managed to get his good leg under him first and hopped two steps before losing his balance and coming down on his right foot. He caught himself on the console, knocking the crutches over, and sucked air in through his teeth. "We're gonna have to take this nice and slow," he gasped. 

The ugliest of the bounty hunters bent over and picked up the crutches. He held them out until Mal, still leaning heavily on the console, turned around and took them from him. The leader gestured down the hallway with his gun, and Mal worked his way slowly out of the hatch and down the short staircase. The men followed.

"You know, dealing with Niska is a mighty risky business," Mal remarked conversationally. "He's got some very strict views on what constitutes a fair contract, and he don't take kindly to any disagreements. You might think twice before getting involved with 'im."

The third man grunted and spoke for the first time. "We just need this one job to come out right, and then we'll never deal with him again."

Mal nodded sagely. "You see, that's how it always starts. But if the job don't go smooth, well, then, you've got a nasty enemy. And if it works out, well he'll just keep askin' you to do things for him until the day you can't deliver the goods. And he's not exactly known for takin' no for an answer."

"Just keep movin'," the leader grumbled.

"I'm just sayin'. I'm not the first person who's gotten on Niska's bad side. Seems to me that everybody gets there sooner or later. A word to the wise." He paused to pick his way carefully down the several stairs into the dining area. "'Course, I don't know why I'm botherin'. Nobody ever thinks that . . ." His commentary trailed off and he came to a standstill.

Before him, a dozen or more mice were sitting at attention in an evenly spaced arc that stretched across the entire room. They were looking past Mal, their clever little eyes fixed intently upon the guns.

_Huh?_

"Keep movin'!" the blond man growled, pushing Mal from behind. Mal stumbled a few steps forward and the mice in his path scampered to the sides. They immediately froze again, their attention once more fixed upon the weapons. Their whiskers twitched frantically.

Their movement caught the attention of the bounty hunters. They all looked down at their feet and pointed their guns at the rodents. "What the hell is this?" one of them muttered.

While they were looking down, River, clutching a large gun in her hand, stepped from the hatchway leading to the engine room. She winked at Mal.

Without taking her eyes from the captain's, she pointed the gun and shot three times in quick succession. Mal flinched and covered his ears with his hands. Stunned, he looked over his shoulder and saw two of the men with holes in their foreheads. The third, directly behind him, was on his back, clutching his gun hand. River strode past the captain, the gun held out before her, and finished the wounded man off.

All around the room, tails were whisking out of doorways and under cover.

Mal slowly turned. He blinked at River and tried to get his mind working again. "Wha the who? How?" 

River lowered the gun and smirked. "The mouse police never sleep," she remarked.

He swayed a bit on his crutches and stumbled backwards, trying to regain his equilibrium. He backed into a chair and the right crutch went flying. With a muffled curse he crashed to the floor. The chair bounced off his right leg, making him cry out.

River pulled the chair away, dropped to her knees at his side, and put her left arm around his shoulder. Mal grabbed her other hand, wrapping his fingers around hers and the gun still clutched there. "What say we put that down?" he asked. She looked at her hand for a moment, as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Then she smiled and opened her fingers wide, surrendering the gun to him. He hurled it along the floor into a far corner.

He took a moment to breathe. "You wanna tell me what just happened?" he asked shakily.

She glanced over at the dead men, unconcerned. "They were going to take you away, to hurt you." She touched Mal's face. "I couldn't let that happen."

"I wasn't a fan of the idea, my own self." His lips twitched in a half smile, and then his face suddenly clouded. "_Tzao gao_. They've still got Zoe and Jayne. We've got to get hold of Wash." He started to twist to the left in order to turn over and push himself off the floor, but River grabbed his hands and shook her head. 

"No," she said. "They're coming. They're safe."

He studied her face, wanting to believe her. And found that he did.

"Okay," he replied. "And Simon?"

River wrinkled her nose at him. "He would have gotten hurt again. I locked him in the infirmary."

Mal laughed. "That's twice I owe you!"

She started to get up. "I should--"

He grabbed her arm gently. "Hey, no, don't go. I, uh, there's somethin' I've been meaning to ask."

"But Simon--"

"He'll keep. Right now, it's just you and me, and I need you to answer something for me, honest like, before the others get back."

She stared at him, waiting.

Mal looked at her very earnestly, trying to be gentle. "Are you getting better?"

She flinched away from him, breaking his light hold, and looked up with wide eyes. He locked eyes with her. "River?"

She shook her head violently.

"It's okay," he comforted her. "I never thought so. I know Simon thinks that he can find some magic potion that will chase away all your nightmares, that if you just concentrate on getting better, then all the darkness will go away. But that just ain't so. It don't work that way."

"He wants me to go back, to go back to what was, to be his _mei-mei_. But when I look back, I can't see the sunshine anymore--it's all in shadow."

Mal closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "I know. You can't ever go back to that. And you can't ever get over what's happened. Things like what's been done to you, they change a person. You don't get over that. But if you dwell on it every day, it'll chew you up from the inside. You have to stop living in the past and start living for the moment. If you can make it through enough moments, you might find yourself contemplating a future someday."

"I don't know if I can do that," she whispered.

He grabbed her hand and held it between both of his. "You can! Trust me--I know about this. And I know something else. I know that you're not just brilliant: you're also strong. You survived what they did to you, and you led Simon and Jayne to safety on Ariel. You saved Kaylee's life at the Skyplex. You outwitted Early. And you just saved my hide--with the help of some, uh, friends. You're not Simon's _mei-mei_ anymore--you're becoming something that has the Alliance pissing in its pants."

She jerked her hand away. "I'm becoming a monster!"

He snatched the hand back and held it tight as she tried to free it. "No! No! That ain't true. Listen!" She stopped struggling and stared at him wide-eyed. "You're becoming a . . . a guardian. And if we're both going to have bounties on our heads, then I'm thinking that _Serenity_ could use a guardian."

"She has a guardian: you."

"Well, we've seen today just how much help I can use with that. Seems like these days I'm the one needs rescuing." He waved a hand towards his swollen foot.

She stared at his toes. "Not your fault. I'm the one who made you fall."

He reached out and touched her hair. "Hey . . . "

She turned her head and met his eyes. "I didn't mean to. I just keep imagining that Early will come back, that he's going to hurt Kaylee or Simon and take me away. And it's worst at night, after Simon gives me something to help me sleep. I get nightmares."

He nodded. "I know a little bit about those nightmares. Kaylee, too. But look, when the danger is real, you focus and you fight it. It's the waiting in between that's hard. But those imaginings about what _could_ happen are getting dangerous. They got me hurt. How about if you focus on what _is_ happening, on the jobs we're taking, on any vermin setting up housekeeping. You can be a part of my crew. _Serenity_ pulled me out of some deep dark places; she'll do the same for you if you let her."

Her face lit up. "Part of the crew?"

"Yup. Heck, I'd even take you along on jobs, but I'd likely have to meet your brother with pistols at dawn or some such. You cover my back better'n Jayne, and you probably have an even better criminal mind than your brother. 'Course, I'm gonna have to get creative about how to pay you. Truth is, I'd have to short someone else if I give you a straight cut of the proceeds. You'll just have to trust me to find something leftover for you now and then. I hope those terms are acceptable."

She threw her arms around him and squeezed him hard.

"Okay," he gasped. "I'll take that as a yes." He placed his hands on either side of her head and turned her face up to his. "There's one other part of this deal. If you're gonna be my crew, then we have to be able to trust each other. You can trust that I will do everything in my power to keep you away from the Alliance. I've done it till now, and I'll keep doing it. I'll even take your crazy ramblings seriously, 'cause I think you know what's happening before any of the rest of us. But if I think that you're shirking your duties--drifting off into dreams rather than focusing on _Serenity_, or speaking in riddles that I don't understand when you could be telling me stuff plainly--well, we'll have to reconsider this arrangement. Can you live with that?"

She nodded solemnly. "I will try to be good crew, sir. But, please . . . I think . . . I think that when I drift away, it's because I feel something just out of reach, and I'm chasing it, trying to see it, to understand. Sometimes the chase leads me further than I mean to go . . ."

"We'll all be here to call you back. You know Simon is here for you. _Serenity_ is here. And I'll be here. I don't leave my crew behind." He spoke the last words like a solemn vow.

"I know," she sniffled, and then she crumbled into tears.

"You know, back in the Army, I never had to deal with weepy recruits. They all must've cried on each other's shoulders. But ever since I came to captain _Serenity_, it seems like all I do is comfort bawling crewmembers. You gotta tell me, is it me? Am I that mean that you all just dissolve when I look at you?"

She sniffed and smiled at him. "It's only the taking that makes you what your are," she observed cryptically.

He sighed. "There, you see? That's just the kind of outburst that leaves me wonderin' if I'm doing the right thing here."

He cocked his head as muffled clanging and voices signaled the return of the others. "Thank the Lord! We're saved. I do believe the cavalry has arrived."

Most of the voices were calling out for the captain. Simon's voice rose above the others, screaming for River. Mal winced. "Sounds like he can't decide if he wants to find you dead or alive!"

Once footsteps reached the nearest stairwell, Mal called out, "Stand down, people! We're safe." A moment later, Jayne appeared by the hatch, back to the wall and a gun at the ready. He glanced once around the corner, saw the bodies, and then blew out all his tension in a loud gasp. "Gorram it, Mal. We ran all the way here, figurin' they'd've snatched you by now."

"Didja now? That was right selfless of you."

Zoe strode in, holstering both her guns. She looked around at all the bodies, taking in the precision of the shots that had brought them down. "You're not wearing your gun, sir," she observed.

Mal put his hand to his hip and glanced down. "Huh. Whaddya know? What are you trying to say, Zoe?"

"Not a thing, sir. Niska's men?"

"More or less. Looking to collect a bounty Niska's put out." More footsteps pounded up the stairs. Mal steeled himself for Simon's arrival. The doctor burst through the hatch with Book close behind.

"River! That was a heartless, stupid thing to do! I've been going insane wondering if you were safe!"

"I had to be sure you wouldn't get yourself shot again," she replied calmly.

"You could have been killed! Those men were armed and ruthless."

"But they weren't very smart," Mal put in.

Zoe nodded towards Mal's toes. "You're bleeding, Captain."

Simon looked over and made a face. "That's got to hurt, Captain. I'll have to reset those toes." He knelt down and gently touched the swelling around the ankle. "And the swelling is much worse." His tone was disapproving.

"Yes, doctor. If it makes you feel any better, it also hurts like a sombitch."

"It's a comfort," Simon replied. He stood, put his hands on his hips, and glowered down at the captain. "And I think this is a good time to remind you of our deal. The crew is back safe: you have an appointment with me in the infirmary."

Mal glowered right back for an instant, but the throbbing was quickly becoming all-consuming. "Right. That was our deal." He started to push himself up, but Jayne and Book stepped up and each took an arm. They hauled him upright and handed him his crutches.

"I'll be prepared when you get down there," Simon assured him. "Jayne, could you make sure he gets down without breaking the other leg?"

"I can get there under my own power!" Mal assured Jayne quickly. "Just stand by to manhandle me over the tricky bits."

Jayne grinned. "I'll spot for you. Just holler if you need me to jump in."

River scampered down the stairs ahead of them, closely followed by Simon. Mal paused before proceeding and looked at the Shepherd and then at Zoe. "I don't recall sending the preacher along on this job," he remarked.

"I followed along to provide spiritual guidance," Book explained.

"It was quite a revelation, sir."

"More along the lines of a psalm, actually," the preacher mocked. "But the sermon will keep, captain. Don't keep the doctor waiting."

"I appreciate you watching over them, Shepherd," Mal said. He then swung his way across the room and slowly picked his way up the hatchway stairs.

The journey to the bottom level was an ordeal. Now that his foot was hanging down, it was throbbing so badly that the skin felt like it was going to burst. Jayne was uncharacteristically quiet, letting Mal concentrate on staying upright, wordlessly taking his weight over the hatch seals and on the steepest stairs. When they reached the bottom, Mal was sweat-covered and shaking.

At the bottom step, Jayne suddenly froze, staring fixedly at the passage to the cargo bay. Mal looked, too, but didn't see anything. He cocked his head. Ever so faintly, he could hear something. Lilting music. But he seemed to hear it within his own head.

Jayne stepped stiffly towards the cargo bay. As he was still gripping Mal's arm, Mal had little choice but to stumble along as best he could. Simon looked up from the infirmary as they passed and stepped out to look after them. With a wondering expression on his face, he trailed after them.

In the cargo bay, River was dancing. Her steps were joyful, her feet flashing, her legs kicking high and her shoulders arching back. Her pounding steps provided a beat, but somewhere the men could hear pipes and drums, a Celtic tune. And a high-pitched squeaking.

Small forms darted along the floor and the stairs, their noses working, their whiskers twitching. One intent mouse scurried over Mal's bare foot, its tiny nails tickling his skin. In a few moments, a dozen or more mice formed a half circle around River.

Not one of them could be described as a big ol' mean-eyed, yeller-teethed _liou mahng._

With her audience gathered, River's dance changed. It became less frenetic, even mournful. It spoke of forsaking the sky and running through the grass, finding homes in the cool earth, eating fresh grain. Acres wild.

One mouse hopped a few steps forward and stood up on its haunches, its paws folded before it as if in prayer. Two more followed it. Then a fourth scampered to the top of the ramp and looked out.

The sun beckoned.

Jayne, his eyes glazed, took a lurching step forward. Mal grabbed his shoulder. "Jayne," he said firmly, "I'm still gonna need your help to get to the infirmary."

Jayne shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked around, seemingly surprised to find himself in the cargo bay. Simon just gaped at his sister.

River stood with her back to them, her arms raised, watching the mice as they flowed over the ramp and disappeared among the stalls and equipment scattered around the skyport. She dropped her right shoulder and swept her arm down, letting it pull her around to them. She met the captain's eyes and smiled.

"Hey!! Did you see that!" Kaylee enthused, bustling up the ramp with Wash in tow. "About twenty mice just ran down from the ship all at once!"

"Yes," Wash chimed in, "they were moving so fast, I thought it must be a rat race."

An hour later, River stood in the infirmary doorway watching Simon fuss with putting bandages away when Zoe walked in. "Where's the Captain?" Zoe asked.

"He's in the empty guest quarters," Simon answered. "He said the infirmary was too exposed."

Zoe cast a glance at the wide doors and the single narrow pallet in the center of the room. "He's got a point."

"You don't need him for anything right now, do you?" the doctor asked. "I gave him something for the pain and it looked like he just might sleep for a while. He was trying to fight it, though: I've never seen a person so set against sleeping."

"No control when you sleep," River muttered from the door to no one in particular. "Too vulnerable. Dragons sleep with one eye open."

Simon looked at her with his stricken face. That usually meant a shot of some sort was coming. She turned and left while Zoe was still providing some diversion.

She stopped outside the captain's temporary quarters, looked to make sure Simon hadn't followed, and then slipped into the room. A single dim light was on in the far corner. The captain lay on the bed, his foot elevated by several pillows. His eyes were closed, but there was a tension to his body that indicated he was not quite asleep. She crept to the bedside and smoothed his hair with her hand. "Sssshhhh," she whispered. "You can rest. I'm watching."

He sighed and she felt him surrender himself to deep sleep.

* * *

Author's Note: Most of River's cryptic outbursts are quotations or references rather than random mutterings. Many thanks to William Shakespeare, Walt Whitman, J.R.R. Tolkien and, most especially, Ian Anderson for their words.


End file.
